Never To Rule Over Him
by Of Quirky Excellence
Summary: I wish I could say this was from a random prompt generator, but I actually came up with it myself. I am hopeless. Jowan never asked to be born a mage, Fenris never asked to be born a slave. When fate intertwines their lives, what will become of everyone's favorite Broody Elf and Blood Mage. Such a crack!Pairing. Rated for slavery and violence/torture.
1. Chapter 1

**Never to Rule Over Him**

 **By Of Quirky Excellence**

 **A/N: A waaaay out there Jowan/Fenris AU that has been milling around in my head for days ever since I started a roleplay thread with some friends involving this setting. The roleplay will likely turn out differently than this story, and that's ok. As for the actual characters, I don't know if they will be romantically involved as of now, but I not rule it out as a possibility for later in the plot of this story. Extra note…VERY IMPORTANT! Maeve Amell does not exist in this AU, but she remains in my canon playthrough story, Half Full. So if you like Jowan/Amell, please read that!**

 _Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him._

Jowan imagined having to write that down on a sheet of parchment fifty or sixty times before the Senior Enchanter who taught his class was satisfied the rowdy boys in the back row- Anders being the ringleader, of course, had learned their lesson, that burning holes in each other's trousers was not acceptable behavior. Jowan had surprised the entire class had not been required to write "Thou shalt not laugh, thou shalt not be merry," instead.

If only he had something to be merry about now. If only his worst concern was to be reprimanded for poor handwriting or a badly aimed fire spell. Alas, his lack of proficiency with flames was the least of his concern.

 _How many times must I muck up? How long before my punishment comes?_ He shook his head and watched the ship filled with hopeful refugees sailing from Gwaren's harbor, bound towards Kirkwall, a city whose gates he vowed never to pass through. Then he remembered. _My punishment is that I continue in this miserable existence. My punishment is that Amell let me live. My punishment is that I was denied death by a merciful hand._

A woman was watching, little did he know. Jowan finally turned away from the sea and sighed. His guard was down at long last, having travelled with the refugees and escorted them safely into the town of Gwaren, where there weren't many doomsayers or even signs that Ferelden was under siege from a Blight. It was so peaceful, and Jowan took a quiet walk down a path he thought was safe. His free days were numbered, however.

The woman signaled to two guards and they followed suit, as silently as they could while dressed in their Tevinter armor. They followed their mistress like one large shadow, and four more guards in identical armor joined them from the shadows.

Jowan took his time collecting flowers and what most would assume were weeds. They were valuable herbs and the former blood mage planned to sell some and keep the rest, eager to use the coin to flee Ferelden, and start a new life. Learn to heal people, never hurt another soul again. Maker knows even this small mercy was too much for Jowan to ask. As he knelt down to harvest some elfroot, Jowan felt the trapped sensation of a Templar's presence, or something like it as he was frozen into place. No, not a Templar, Templars would just smite him and that would be louder and more painful. Another mage was casting a spell he had seen only once in use. Karl had cast such a spell on Anders when he'd broken his arm and it only held the arm in place while it was being healed so the mischievous apprentice would quit squirming for a few moments.

This was different. Jowan's whole body trembled, but he could not move a muscle as he spotted her out of the corner of his eyes. She wore thick robes made in Tevinter with feathery shoulders and a low-cut collar, exposing much of her cleavage. Her hair was thick and raven black, like his, and her eyes an icy blue. They lacked empathy or kindness, tenderness or mercy. But her expression was unreadable, which caused Jowan to fear her even more as she modified the spell, forcing him to the ground like a wounded dog.

He found he could not speak although he was fully aware of everything and everyone around him. She stepped closer now, with a wicked smirk on her face, and one of the guards spoke in a gruff voice. "That was too easy, Mistress. Want us to break him a little so he doesn't struggle?"

"No." She replied coldly. She glanced down, grabbing his wrist, holding his hand up and drawing a dagger. Jowan's heart pounded in his chest and he wanted to cry out, even to warn her of what he was, but nothing would come save for a whimper when he felt her nails digging into his pale and thin flesh.  
Then without another word she pricked the back of his thumb with the little knife. Jowan hissed and could feel tears running down his cheeks at a fast pace, from both terror and pain. She let it bleed for a moment and then she met his horrified, wide-eyed gaze. Blood began to rise, and he panicked as he realized she was doing to him what he vowed he would never do to himself again.

Then he felt the power of his mana pulsing through his veins quickly. The aura of blood magic surrounded his offended hand. "Not just a simple herbalist…a blood mage!" the dark haired woman marveled for a moment.

He fought with all his strength of will until he could move the muscles on his face and he spoke quickly, for fear that he never would get that chance again.

"I am already broken. Leave me be!"

He found the strength to pull his hand away and his captor chuckled. "So broken, yet so willfull, yes? My, my will you be a fun experiment for the Master. Guards, bind him and use whatever means necessary to get him to the ship without raising suspicion from the public. Have fun, but if he dies, the one who kills him takes his place in chains."

And with that she stood up walked back towards the harbor, leaving Jowan with six Tevinter soldiers surrounding his trembling, but now mobile form. Having no desire to be trapped or harmed again, Jowan evaded the first two who came towards him with chains ready to shackle his hands, but the four other men drew weapons, so Jowan prepared a fire spell. Releasing it, the flame landed in front of one of the two guards tasked with subduing the frightened mage, and the poor bastard couldn't stop moving fast enough to avoid being burned alive. The other man who held the chains was shaken by his comrade's cries and curses, but he lunged out and tried to grab Jowan regardless.

Remembering the dagger he had used to help fend off darkspawn when he could not risk using his magic, he reached for his belt and unsheathed it quickly. "Let's not get hasty, mage. Someone could get hur-"

The man gurgled on his own blood as Jowan impaled his stomach with the superficial weapon. There was so much blood….Jowan _could_ have used its power to obliterate the entire squadron of Tevinter soldiers, but images of Lily's devastated, betrayed expression flashed before his eyes and he refused the demon's offer.

There was so much blood. What happened next went by in a blurry flash, as Jowan froze up. He had just killed two men. He was afraid for his life and terrified for his future, desperate to preserve his freedom. But not desperate enough to remember that there were four other guards waiting to assist in his capture.

He was luckily unconscious for most of it, but he received a terrible beating and in the end, he was weak, bleeding and only half-conscious as he was dragged towards the ship, hands and feet clapped in irons and covered in dirt, sweat and blood from the brutality of it all.

He never asked to be born a mage, never wanted to become a blood mage. But his destiny would soon be intertwined with that of another, a man so different, and yet so alike, in so many ways.

Fenris never asked to be an elf. Never longed to be a slave. Perhaps he'd wanted to have these markings, maybe he'd even begged for this position despite the memory wipe. Was it merely a side effect, or a bonus for his master? Not even time could tell.

There was a new shipment of slaves to be brought in today, and the elf knew his duty. To accompany Master Danarius into the dungeon to see to it none of the new meat acted up or harmed their captors.

Fenris walked slightly behind his master at a brisk pace, but carefully not to trip or get ahead of the human. If he did he would most certainly be punished. As they walked down the stairs towards the cells Fenris remained stoic, his body language unreadable, expression blank. That was just the way. It was cruel to be soft towards the new slaves. It would only give them the wrong impression of what being here was like. He rarely would see those whose arrival he helped oversee again, either because they died or were sold, but one thing always remained the same, his face did not give away emotion, even if what was going on made him want to feel something. It was just easier if nothing was there to feel.

"Ah, what have we here?" The magister's voice sounded almost warm and inviting. Fenris hated this part. If any of the slaves spoke now they would likely be flogged, or worse.

A young male human sat off to the side of the cell, his body beaten, but nothing so broken that Danarius would ever consider healing. Covered in dried blood and filth the man turned his head slightly. An elven girl lay curled up next to the young man, leaning her head on his leg. Her eyes were clenched shut, but Fenris suspected the young thing was not truly asleep.

The others in the cell were broken elves, mostly. Probably the only thing in store for them would be blood rituals and painful experiments and when master got his money's worth, a death more merciful than starvation on the streets. Fenris remembered being told that was what elves who were not slaves had to look forward to, nothing more. Never anything more than poverty and death on the streets. _'Be grateful my little wolf, you could have been nothing like them. But now you are a prize. A weapon crafted to kill and carried proudly.'_ Fenris could recall his master saying it now, before he'd been slapped across the face for forgetting himself in his surprise and looking his master in the eyes.

The young human looked wary at the newcomers. He scooted back to a far corner of the cell and the elf at his side started at the sudden movement, sat up and went with him, clinging to his arm. Tears trickled down the young elven girl's cheeks and the human male stroked her hair weakly, trying to be of comfort and failing miserably. _At least,_ Fenris noted silently, _He is not foolish enough to speak before he is spoken to._

Danarius looked over his shoulder slightly and nodded to Fenris subtly. "Bring out the one who just cowered to the back, he's the only one who looks like he might be valuable."

Fenris muttered, "Yes, master," before he stepped forward and unlocked the door to the cell.

Jowan trembled and moved to hold the slender form of the elven girl he had befriended on the ship. She was mute, as far as he could tell, and absolutely terrified of just about everyone. The girl gasped as the cell door opened. She sobbed a little onto his shoulder and clung tighter to his arm.

Fenris quickly closed the gap between himself and the two prisoners in the back of the cell and extended his hand towards the male human. Normally were it an elven slave he would have just grabbed him, but humans were superior, he was taught, and as a result his fellow slaves with flat ears got a little bit more respect, only because they were a little closer to his master than he could ever be.

This was why Danarius rarely took human slaves and he favored the elves. He could treat them with equal cruelty. Jowan looked perplexed at the elf's offer and hesitated. The girl let go of him and scrambled away from the elf with the strange markings and snow-white hair.

Jowan stole a glance after his quiet little friend and then his gaze returned to the intimidating elf before him. The elf brought his hand closer and emphasized for Jowan to hurry with a lift of his dark eyebrows. Without any more hesitation or contemplation Jowan took the male elf's hand and let himself be helped to his feet. When their hands touched, Jowan could feel it, just for a moment. The song of Lyrium. He shuddered as he automatically thought of Templars and their cruelty but then he snapped out of it once he was on his feet and he let go of the elf's hand. "Thank you…" he managed. The elf replied to his futile attempt to be pleasant with a curt nod.

He was guided by the arm out of the cell and brought before the magister. "I have heard quite a good deal about you, blood mage. Rumor has it you escaped your Circle and poisoned the Arl of some good-for-nothing Fereldan town, hmm?"

Jowan looked up at Danarius, terror and anxiety written all over his face. The white haired elf quickly bumped the top of his head with a gauntleted hand to lower Jowan' gaze. Jowan, instead of looking down like the elf had assumed he would, looked at Fenris, who refused to meet his pained gaze.

"Now, now, Fenris," Danarius said softly. "He will learn his place in good time. Provided we explain to him what is to be expected of him. And you, young man, have a lot to learn from my Fenris, now, haven't you? Looking your master in the eyes is a sure way to earn a flogging."

Jowan quickly began counting the stone that made up the dungeon's floor in order to contain his emotions.

"Much better." Danarius said, his voice prickly even though the words were supposed to be praise.

The magister reached towards Jowan's face and cupped his fingers under the young man' chin, causing him to flinch slightly and raise his head. "What is your name, slave?"

Jowan's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. No point in lying, no meaning in telling the truth. If he lied, one more sin the Maker could punish him for, and if he told the truth, he was still nothing. Nothing at all to these all-powerful magisters.

"You would be wise to answer when spoken to, human." Fenris growled menacingly, squeezing Jowan's arm. Again, were it an elf, he would have allowed the man to gape until words were forced to come, but it was curtesy to the human to give him warning that he was at risk of being punished.

"…Jowan." He said meekly. "My name is Jowan."

Danarius chuckled at the young mage's timidness. "Another lesson learned. You will answer when spoken to, my boy."

Jowan nodded very slightly.

"How much magic do you know, and don't lie to me, I know you use the arts your Circles forbid. My apprentice, Hadriana, informed me you put up quite a fight upon your capture as well. Know that there will be none of that here. You will learn to bend to my will and use spells only at my command, and if you misbehave, you shall be punished. If I deem it necessary, you little elven friend back there will be punished instead. You are far too valuable to be killed for petty errors, but she is not, so keep that in mind, mageling. My name is Danarius, but I am your master and you are to address me as such. Are we clear?"

Jowan let tears fall for the mute elf' sake as her life had just been threatened, and he nodded. "Yes, master." He found himself uttering the words softly. The older mage stomped on his bare foot.

" _Louder, my boy, so even the deaf and dumb elves back there can hear you!"_ Danarius roared, startling Fenris and causing the elf's grip on him to falter slightly, just for a moment.

Jowan lifted his foot after the magister stepped off and squinted, gritting his teeth. "Yes _master!"_ He cried.


	2. Chapter 2

Never to Rule Over Him

Chapter 2

Danarius nodded, taking a step back from Jowan and releasing his grip on his face. "Fenris, get the little elf. The one that was with this boy. She is worth close to nothing to us, but she may be a good leash for the mageling."

Fenris did not question the order, and he returned to the cell. Jowan stood in shock. He found his grey eyes following the marked elf and watching his every move as he entered the prison and toward the little elven girl, who really was not much younger than Jowan or Fenris, just extremely malnourished and traumatized. She trembled as the much fiercer looking elf extended his arm and grabbed hers, a great deal less gently than he had taken Jowan's, and he pulled her up.

Fenris led her from the cell quickly, practically dragging the poor girl, not because she struggled, but because she was far too weak and terrified to keep up with his long stride.

Jowan watched as she was led closer until Fenris released her with a rough shove towards the young mage and the harsh magister. Jowan frowned and winced as the little elf clung to his side, unintentionally brushing against one of his many bruises.

She buried her fragile face in what was left of his shirt and Jowan shushed her gently as she sobbed and sniffled. He held her in a close, protective embrace.

"Ah, the child seems like a weakling…drawn to a Ferelden mage for protection, well, isn't that typical?" The two guards who were stationed outside the cell laughed cruelly, quickly silencing again when their master glared at them.

Jowan did not look up at Danarius, he gently stroked the girl's light brown strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. The young elf looked at Danarius, but was careful not to make eye contact.

Jowan released her from his arms, but one hand remained on her quivering shoulder.

Danarius spoke condescendingly to the child. "What is your name, little slave?"

 _He had counted forty eight floorboards below deck when she'd been brought aboard. There had been no need to bind her in chains like they had with him, and they left the delicate little girl in the brig with him, and four others. She was terrified of anyone and everything, but not of him. The one prisoner whom they had left in chains._

 _Of course that was only because she did not know why he was bound._

 _She'd spent the first night alone in a corner. The next day the guards had brought stale bread. Jowan could not get close enough, because his shackles tethered him to the wall of the ship and try as he might he could not persuade the other frightened and starving slaves to pass him food._

 _"Every man for himself," they'd said. She finally locked eyes with him when he'd given up struggling against his bonds. She had managed two small bits of the bread, and later when the other four settled down for the night, she crawled over to him._

 _He'd been almost asleep, but she shook him, very lightly. Had he been any deeper in slumber he would not have felt it. But his eyes opened and she flinched. She moved back a little but he'd sat up quickly and then he spoke softly. "What is it, little one?" He asked. With a pained expression she'd taken his hand and placed one piece of bread into it. Then she had smiled._

 _"You did not have to…" He had begun._

 _She shook her head and placed her index finger to her lips. He nodded. He understood._

She gave her head a subtle shake, and placed her finger to her lips.

Jowan was fearful now. He knew Danarius would never understand. So he spoke in her stead. "I…I believe the girl is mute, ser."

Danarius shot Jowan a poisonous glare and Fenris snarled, " _Your master did not speak to you, you fool_."

 _"_ Is it true, Fenris? Is the girl defective? Open her mouth." Danarius demanded.

"Yes, master." Fenris said automatically as he reached for the girl's face. The child let out a fearful cry, a scream of misery and anguish. Jowan pulled her away from Fenris' grasp. He understood the elf was only following orders but it pained him still to see the man so blindly follow this man's cruel ways and carry out all his dirty work.

Fenris raised a questioning dark eyebrow, and the girl continued to sob into Jowan's arms.

Danarius looked unsettled. "Quite the voice and tongue she has for a mute, wouldn't you say, lad? Perhaps if she pays for your lying you will learn not to lie to me, blood mage?"

Jowan shook his head frantically. "It was a mistake, master, I thought she was-"

"Enough of this foolishness!" Danarius said, voice raised dangerously. "Fenris, take them both to the slaves' quarters. If the girl cannot speak in twenty minutes' time, kill her and report back to me that my cargo was defective. If she can speak then she will live and Jowan here will be in…quite a bit of trouble for lying to his master. No food and no water to either of them until this matter is resolved. Are we clear?"

"Yes, master." Fenris said softly. Danarius turned on his heel and muttered something about how disgusting elven women were before he disappeared up the stairwell and out of the dungeon.

Jowan glared at the male elf before the other spoke. "You'd best learn quickly, human. Whatever life you had before, it is gone now. You are a slave, and that is all you should ever hope to be again. Anything more is foolery and dangerous. Your past is irrelevant to your life here…" Fenris said as he chained Jowan' hands together.

Once the mage's hands were bound he looked the elf in the eye, but the eye contact was quickly broken by Fenris' evasion. "Is it bad that I am almost comforted by my past being gone?"

Fenris looked genuinely confused for a moment, but then he shook his head. "That is none of my concern, human. I have no past."  
Jowan gave a puzzled frown to the elf's statement but then Fenris turned and took the smaller female elf by one arm and pushed Jowan towards the stairs. "I will lead the way, don't try anything." Fenris commanded.

The walk upstairs to the more populated parts of Danarius' estate was exhausting considering both Jowan and the female elf were close to starving and very parched. The estate was quite well lit and very extravagantly decorated, with blood red tapestries and paintings on almost every inch of the stone walls. The slaves' quarters, once they reached them, were drab and run down in comparison. Nicer than the dungeons but a very great deal shabbier than the main house.

Fenris released the girl once they turned the corner into the slaves' quarters and he kept one hand on the chains that bound Jowan.

"Say something, if you want to live, child. This charade is foolish, and will only make everything worse for us all." Fenris told the girl, with the first hint of gentleness that he had shown since Jowan had first seen him.

The girl looked towards Jowan and tears trickled down her cheek. Wide hazel-green eyes bore into Jowan's grey pools and the mage wanted to melt. He knew what she was probably thinking. If she did not speak, she would be killed, if she did, Jowan would be punished and she would most likely have to watch.

"My dear, it's all right. Don't worry about me. I know you're scared but I would rather be punished than see him kill you." Jowan said, forcing a smile. "You can do it; I know you can."

Jowan and Fenris exchanged glances and the marked elf spoke again. "I do not have a choice. If the master comes back and she is alive, he will expect her to speak…"

Ignoring Fenris' reasoning, Jowan looked the girl in the eyes, his expression softening. "What is your name, dear? I promise I won't be angry. You don't have to be loud…just, say it. You are the only reason I have made it this far, you have to speak. I cannot bear to see you throw away your life to spare me whatever punishment he has in store."

The elf glanced from Fenris to Jowan and then she bowed her head, solemn eyes closed. "Friend. You are a friend." A small voice, just above a whisper. But it was a voice! Jowan smiled, more sincerely this time, and the girl disregarded the presence of Fenris and anyone else and threw her arms around Jowan's neck, getting him a little bit off balance due to his bound hands, but Fenris steadied him. The male elf nudged Jowan's arm.

"You'll need to get her to say more than that, human." He quickly averted his eyes to the ground. "If her speech is too limited the master will still see her as a defect, and I will be ordered to-"

"Please, don't hurt my friend." The little elf said, more boldly than before.

Jowan scowled at Fenris now. "Begging for you not to hurt me? I think she's proven she understands more than she lets on. Does that suffice?" he asked bitterly.

Fenris was about to reply, but a firm, cold hand grasped Jowan's shoulder and at the sound of the newcomer's voice all three slaves flinched a little, the young girl being the most frightened. "Ah, yes. A slave must understand, and speak only enough to prove they aren't daft."

Fenris' gaze darted down again and Jowan followed his lead. "Master," Fenris greeted. He sounded almost polite, almost pleasant, but the emotion was barely there.

"Did I hear that the little one has been coaxed to speak, mageling?" Danarius cooed with a mock gentleness that sent a shiver down Jowan's spine.

"…please, do not hurt him…" the girl whimpered. She had let go of Jowan when Danarius had entered the room and now she was standing across from him, wringing her tiny hands in the skirt of her shabby dress.

Danarius frowned. "I suppose that answers that question, then." The magister released his grip on Jowan and shoved him sideways. The young mage was so weak from exhaustion, hunger and dehydration that he let himself fall, landing hard on the stone floor, wind knocked out of him. He could do nothing but watch as Danarius advanced towards the girl. She was backing up, desperate to get away from the frightening man, but she could only go so far before she hit the wall, and she yelped when she did.

She covered her face with her hands and began to cry again, no doubt frightened Danarius would strike her. "Hands at your sides, slave, I want to see your face." The girl obeyed, slowly, but as soon as she put her hands down she stared up at the Magister with her big, pleading eyes, the ones that could make Jowan melt, but Danarius was only angered by this.

"You dumb little elven wench!" He spat in her face, then slapped her across the face with a hard, bony, but strong hand. "You are completely worthless! We're it not to keep the mageling in check you'd be nothing more than a blood slave! Your blood's worth more than your labor!" Then he hit her again, and again, until she was on the ground, across the room from Jowan, who was struggling to get up.

Fenris winced as his master struck the younger elf. He rarely endured abuse so blatant, but he knew that Danarius had a nasty temper and he often took it out on his slaves in a barbaric manner. But such was the life of a slave, and nothing could be done to change this, so the elf thought. He tried to block out the more fragile elf's cries, but he couldn't help but wonder why she had remained silent. Both she and Jowan had disobeyed several orders so far and they had been here less than a day. Not to mention they were trying to protect one another. Why, he wondered, would Jowan be willing to endure a punishment for the little elf? Having friends was nothing but trouble. And why would the girl be begging her master not to harm the mageling? Why go through so much heart ache for someone she had just met?

Fenris' pondering was cut short by Jowan. The mage had finally been able to stand, and he moved from his place next to Fenris, quickly advancing across the floor. Danarius was still striking the girl, and although his hands were bound, he acted boldly in his friend's defense. As he spotted the lightning spell Danarius was preparing, Jowan swiftly pushed the girl out of the way and let the spell hit him full force. Danarius did not stop the flow of mana once he realized what Jowan had done, and he did not redirect the spell over to the battered elf. Instead he strengthened the spell, sparks turned to lightning bolts as they flew and coursed through Jowan's body. The young mage was on the ground now, convulsing and screaming, and now the little girl was next to Fenris, sitting up but covering her eyes.

Jowan was sure he would have died then and there, but then the lightning stopped, and although he was stunned and in a great deal of pain, he was still mostly conscious and struggling to breathe and trying to move. Once some of his senses returned he wanted to soothe the agonizing pain of the back of his head, that he must have hit while he had spasmed on the floor because of the spell. But when he brought his chained hands up to rub his head, the movement was too much, and unconsciousness finally greeted him.

It was hours before the mage stirred, but only moments before things calmed down, seemingly. Danarius had left after releasing the spell, ordering Fenris to follow him and tend to his bath. Other slaves had gathered in the room as Danarius was leaving, although they were careful not to get in his way.

The elven girl stayed with Jowan. Once she was sure the attention of the others was no longer on them save for a few hushed whispers in the distance, she crawled to his side and lay next to him on the floor, burying her bruises and bloodied face in his long, unkempt raven hair.

Jowan began to stir when it was long past midnight and the girl was asleep at his side. Nobody had paid them much attention, and when Jowan finally awoke, a throbbing pain coursed through his head, down his spine and throughout his entire body. He groaned and turned his head slowly, crying out when a bruise on the back of his head hit the cold hard ground.

The little elf was awake in only moments when she felt his movement. She sat up and looked down at him, gazing into his blue-grey eyes, her own green pools filled with concern.

"Friend…I'm sorry they hurt you…it is my fault." She said softly.

Jowan blinked a few times, and then he spoke quietly. "No…." Tears were streaming down the girl's face and he tried to lift a hand to wipe them away, only his hands were still shackled, and he clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth in pain when he tried to move.

"No, no. There is no need to speak like that, I did what I had to do." Jowan whispered.

"But …why?" she asked, her innocent features full of confusion.

"It is a harsh world we live in. My innocence was taken from me long ago. Some might say I doomed myself, but as Fenris said, the past is in the past. You are pure of heart and I wish to protect you…to atone for the innocence I could not have and because it is simply the right thing to do." He whispered. It was the best explanation he could possibly give her with his splitting headache and the pain the rest of his body was in.

"Oi," a voice said. "You gonna get up off the floor, shem? We mopped tonight, you know."

Jowan gave the cook a tired look. The elf was young, only perhaps a little older than himself, and Fenris raised an eyebrow as the man strode over and knelt at his side.

"You're hurt, shem." The man said simply. His accent was neither Tevinter or Fereldan. He was from the Free Marches, perhaps.

"No, I like to lay passed out on the floor with my hands in chain for fun." Jowan said softly.

"What?" the girl piped in. Jowan spared her a small smile.

"Don't worry about it sweetie." He said softly.

"That attitude'll getcha killed, shem. My name's Rik. I'm the cook in 'ere on a good day." The man said, with a smirk almost too mischievous for a slave. He had dirty blond hair and friendly blue eyes, but he bore many scars on his face, marking him a slave, for sure. He contradicted himself with the attitude comment, but Jowan played along.

"And on a bad day?" asked the chained mage.

"I cook for the master!" The elf said after chuckling for a time.

Jowan wanted to laugh, but he smiled instead. Something about Rik put the young human at ease.  
"Jowan," he offered, his grin fading. "My name is Jowan."

"Typical human name I suppose." Rik replied. "And who might you be, lass? Tell me and I'll give you lot some bread and gruel. It's gone cold, but better than nothing, yeah?"

"…Sa'renan. I'm Sa'renan." She said softly. It was clear she hadn't spoken her own name in a long time because she smiled gently when she said it and closed her eyes, savoring what it sounded like.

"A Dalish name?" Jowan asked. He still could not make big movements without jolts of pain, but he managed to turn his head to look at whomever was speaking.

"I… I don't know, friend. My mamae said…" she began to cry again and then a shadow appeared over Rik's face.

"Sorry lass…Don't tell us if speaking of it troubles you…" said the older elf. Jowan smiled reassuringly and nodded, as much as he could, in agreement.

"Thank you." Sa'renan said softly. She then looked from Rik to Jowan, the concern returning to her features. "You should eat something, Jowan. Rik, can you help him up please?"

Rik looked down at Jowan. "Aye, lass. Go sit at the table, but try not to be too noisy, you don't want to wake anyone."

With a nod, little Sa'renan was standing, and he settled at the table nearby. Rik gently helped Jowan up off the floor, but the mage could not suppress hisses and painful groans as he tried to stand. The elf helped him slowly and painfully to a chair and he collapsed into its arms, the chains on his wrists rattling as hi hands landed on the table.

"Gonna be all right?" asked Rik.

Jowan nodded. "Please, don't worry about me."

There was a small gentle hand on his shoulder and he winced but then he relaxed.

"It's only me, friend." Sa'renan said softly.

The older elf then served them a few pieces of bread and a bowl of gruel-like stew, and despite the plainness of the meal, the two ate quickly and when he gave them water they drank gratefully.

Rik then showed them to the bedchamber shared by all the slaves and Jowan chose the bed closest to the door, Sa'renan chose the one next to his and Rik took the bunk above Jowan.

It was the first thing close to a proper sleep either of them had in weeks. Jowan was hurting but at least he wasn't as hungry, and the bed was shabby and mattresses were hard but they were softer than the stone floor.

 **A/N: Sa'renan means "One Voice" in the Dalish language. Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!** **J**


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